Like Mother, Like Daughter
by pink-levicorpus
Summary: It wasn't until Bridget got older and had a daughter of her own that she realized how similar she was to her own mother. Will she be able to get through it or will she meet the same fate her own mother?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Chapter 1

Bridget found herself being lulled into reveries by the warm afternoon sun for the umpteenth time that day. She had never been one to sit peacefully, entertaining herself with her own daydreams. Bridget had always been the dynamic one in her small group of "sisters". She was the one poised for adventure, ready to face the world, ready to tackle anything and everything that life threw her way. _When did things change?_ Bridget wondered to herself. It troubled her that she couldn't remember. Had it been that long? Bridget didn't know. She felt like she was trying to distinguish where in the rainbow red stopped and orange began. She knew there had to be a point where the one had become the other but she just couldn't pinpoint it down.

"Bee, it's me! I'm worried about you! Please call me back! I'll be home all day so feel free to call me…" Bridget listened to the message with cool indifference. She briefly wondered why she hadn't heard the phone ring but brushed the thought away, attributing it to her daydreaming. It was no secret her friends were worried about her. Even her father had started to notice something off about Bridget. He had been calling more, paying short but deliberate visits. Everyone's worried, Bridget thought to herself, rolling over in bed and glancing at her alarm clock. It was 10:30. What normally would have constituted abnormal behavior for Bridget had recently become common to the girl. Sometimes she got up at ten, sometimes it was three and sometimes she never got up at all. It all just seemed so…tiring. Sighing heavily, Bridget closed her eyes, pulling her pillow up over her head.

The baby was crying. It was Bridget's first thought upon waking. _Why does she have to be so loud?_ Bridget asked herself, annoyed. The baby was always crying, always needing something. _I need something too!_ Bridget thought in exasperation, _I need some attention too!_ It was silly, she knew. She had tons of people fawning over her, trying to fix all of her problems. They just couldn't fix the right ones.

"Bridget, please get the baby!" Her husband's voice echoed from the bathroom. Bridget knew that he was in the shower or else he would have gone to get their daughter himself. He was always the one taking care of things. Bridget willed herself to get up and took her time padding down the hallway towards the nursery. She walked in slowly, peeking carefully around the door and stepping quietly up to the crib.

"Mommy's here," Bridget said dully, feeling about as motherly as a hamster. The child, seeing who had come to retrieve her, only howled louder. For a minute Bridget let herself feel bad, even her baby didn't want to be with her, after a minute though Bridget forced herself to shrug it off. I haven't been much of a mother anyway, Bridget told herself, _I'm just the substitute_, then, after a minute, _the benchwarmer_. That thought alone hurt more than the realization that her daughter was afraid to see her. Bridget reached down and scooped up the shrieking child, holding her awkwardly against her chest.

"Shhh," Bridget cooed, gracelessly bouncing the baby on her hip. Bridget continued this for another minute or so before placing the screeching child back into her crib. "Don't worry," Bridget said dully, moving to leave the room. She shut the door, trying to muffle the wails, "Your Daddy will be in here soon." Without another word Bridget returned to her bed.

When Bridget woke again it was late. The clock read 1:06 but Bridget felt that it was much later. Her husband was sleeping next to her, his breath whistling in and out in tiny snores. Without waking him up Bridget slid out from underneath the sheets and walked into the kitchen. She reached up into the medicine cabinet and extracted her migraine medicine. Without bothering to reach for a glass she swallowed down the few that were left and lazily tossed the bottle towards the trashcan, missing it by a mile. The empty bottle hit the wall and rolled under the oven. Bridget didn't bother retrieving it; she just stared at the spot where it had fallen. Ignoring the sudden sadness that swept through her, Bridget shuffled out, feeling empty inside. When she got back to the bedroom she sat on the floor, reaching under her bed for the tattered shoe box. Pulling the top off the box she reached for the tattered photograph. The edges had been worn down and the color had nearly rubbed off. Bridget gripped it tightly, looking at the family pictured. It was a candid shot of one Christmas day, taken by her father. Perry and Bridget were stooped next to the tree, picking out their next presents, and off to one side was Marly. She was sitting in a chair, clutching her robe around her body. She wasn't looking at the kids, but rather out the window, a vacant expression on her face. Her body was there but she clearly wasn't. _Like mother, like daughter_, Bridget though with a cryptic laugh before crawling back into bed.


	2. Lena

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Chapter 2

Bridget couldn't remember the last time she had gone out of the house. As far as she could remember, Eric had done everything. He did the grocery shopping, he picked up his own dry cleaning, and he took the baby to visit everyone. _He has completely cut me off_, Bridget told herself, _he's ashamed of me now so he's completely cut me off from the world_. Even as she thought about it Bridget knew it was ludicrous. Eric was always trying to lure her out of the house with promises of fancy dinners, soccer games, even simple things like going to the park. He had tried and tried but Bridget always had an excuse; she was too tired or too busy or she had a migraine. Eric knew that they were all lies but it had become easier to believe her lies than face the truth.

"Get the door!" Bridget yelled out hoarsely, unwilling to move off the couch. It was only after a few minutes did she realize she was the only one in the house. _Eric must be out_, Bridget thought, curious as to why he didn't tell her. _Maybe he did_, Bridget thought to herself, reflecting on the morning. She hadn't exactly been up to chatting and had quickly closed Eric out when he had tried to talk to her. He wasn't talking about leaving though, Bridget thought, only briefly remembering what he had been saying. He had spoken about the bills, the groceries and something about her brother. _Did he say he was going somewhere? _Bridget sighed, accepting the fact that she didn't care enough to expend the power to figure it out.

"I'm coming in!" Before Bridget had a chance to comprehend the words Lena had opened the door and walked inside. She glanced across the room to Bridget who was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy red blanket. The only visible part was Bridget's shock of hair that sprouted out from the top like yellow corn silk bursting from the husks. Lena walked over slowly, her shiny black heels tapping lightly over the old wooden flooring. Bridget closed her eyes, sinking slowly below the blanket. She didn't want to see anyone, much less Lena. Lena was always after her, trying to yank her out of the comfortable nest that Bridget had made for herself, all alone, in her home. Carmen and Tibby were always calling her too but their work required them to be on the move more often, and Carmen didn't even live in the same state anymore. Lena on the other hand was conveniently close by. _Or not so convenient_, Bridget thought lamely to herself, willing Lena to leave.

"Bridget look at me," Lena commanded in a gentle but demanding tone. She pulled a nearby chair over in front of the couch and sat down. When Bridget didn't move Lena reached over and yanked the blanket away. Bridget cringed slightly and looked up at Lena whose eyes showed a mixture of sadness and anger. "You smell awful Bee, when was the last time you showered?" Bridget was caught off guard at Lena's harsh tone but shrugged it away. When Lena continued to stare, obviously waiting for an answer, Bridget sighed.

"I dunno, I showered a few days ago I guess." Lena scoffed openly.

"Look what you're doing to yourself Bridget. You're lazy, you're bitter and you're out of it all the time! You're pushing everyone away from you Bee. Pretty soon you're going to look around and have no one left." Bridget mutely accepted Lena's accusations, glancing warily at the TV. Lena sat there, watching her best friend lose herself in some ridiculous soap opera. _How could Bee have fallen so far?_ Lena asked herself miserably_. How did we not see this sooner? I live down the road from her, how could I have been so blind? How could we have let her slip through our fingers like that? How could I have lost her?_ Bridget had moved from glancing towards the TV to being completely immersed in the program. Lena shifted uncomfortably. It was like sitting next to a doll. The appropriate human likeness was there for all to see but the inside was fluff, meaningless stuffing to fill the emptiness.

"I just don't get you anymore," Lena said softly, more to herself than to Bridget. Bridget mumbled incoherently, flipping through the channels unenthusiastically. Lena wasn't about to give up. "What are you doing to yourself Bee?" Lena asked. Bridget just shrugged.

"I've just been tired Lena. This whole—this whole thing is just so tiring," Bridget said with flippantness to her tone. Lena crossed her arms over her chest, peering quizzically at her best friend.

"What 'whole thing' is so tiring Bridget? Come on, I want to know!" Lena pressed, not willing to let Bridget get off so easy. She knew Bridget; she knew she had to be pushed. She had to be tested. Mostly though, she had to be loved. It was the last thing that Lena could think of. Bridget shrugged lazily, brushing a piece of her hair away from her face.

"You know, marriage, the baby, it's all so tiring," Bridget supposed deftly, wishing that Lena would just leave her alone. Lena looked at her sharply though, her brow furrowing in despondency.

"Bridget I'm sick of this! I have a husband and kids of my own! I have a job! If you would just talk to me for once instead of just lying there like you're dead maybe you would realize that! I need to know that I'm helping you out a little bit!" Lena shouted in exasperation. Bridget kept her eyes glued to the TV screen. Lena stood, smoothing her blouse in exasperation. She stared at her friend for one minute more, hoping in vain that Bridget would come to her senses. When Bridget said nothing Lena slowly walked away. When she reached the door she paused for a second more, turning to Bridget for the last time.

"You know that 'whole thing' that's just so tiring? It's called life, Bridget." Lena said before walking out of the house. Bridget glanced at the door, the pain starting to wash over her again. Turning back to the TV, Bridget slowly pulled the blanket up over her head again.


	3. Julie Marly Richman

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing

Chapter 3

Motherhood had not come easy for Bridget. Even when she had first taken the home pregnancy test she had been wary of the results. _I'm just not the mothering type_, Bridget had said when people questioned her enthusiasm, or lack thereof. When Bridget had found out that she was pregnant she was just beginning to recover from an ankle injury that had kept her off the soccer field for three months. She had worked with a physical therapist the entire time off and had been ready to rejoin the sporting community when she had been stopped once more. There had been complications in the first few months and Bridget could no longer run. A few weeks later it was decided that she shouldn't do anything stressful or take any trips. One week later Bridget had been confined to bed rest. Bridget hadn't even seen the baby yet and had already started to loathe the kid.

As the pregnancy progressed Bridget did everything expected. She went to her doctor's appointments, listened to the baby's heartbeat, saw the sonograms. The entire time she expected something, anything, to awaken some hidden maternal feelings inside of her, but none came. The doctor had said that this was normal and that when the child was born the motherly feelings would come naturally. So Bridget waited. She waited until she went into labor, she waited until she held her daughter in her arms for the first time, she waited until they took the child home. She had hated herself for it, but she felt nothing towards the baby. The kid cried, pooped, ate. She was always in need of something. She couldn't even sleep through the night. The baby was just too demanding.

"I'll be back in an hour or so, just _stay awake_," Eric said, emphasizing the last two words. He knew Bridget's sudden habit of falling asleep whenever and wherever she felt like. Bridget was sitting up in bed, watching him rush through his morning activities, doing nothing to help him. Eric's tone was light but Bridget knew how serious he was. He knew how Bridget felt about the baby and so far he had done everything in his power to help her with the responsibility but there were just some things he couldn't get out of. _This meeting is one of those times_, he had explained to Bridget earlier although he knew she had only been half listening. She had nodded silently, staring at him through the curtain of hair that had fallen across her face. With one last cautionary glance towards his wife Eric kissed her stiffly on the forehead and took off. Bridget sat there for a minute, puzzling over the kiss. _Had she stiffened up too? Was touching Eric that painful now? When had that change happened?_ Bridget could only guess.

Ten minutes after Eric left the baby woke up. Bridget let her cry for a few minutes before forcing herself out of bed. _She'll just keep sobbing_, Bridget had told herself in an effort to speed herself up. Bridget approached the nursery apprehensively and walked towards the crib. Bridget leaned over the cradle, slowly tracing the name carved into the side; Julie Marly Richman. Bridget laughed inwardly, remembering how she had thought it would be the perfect name. Julie, for Julie Foudy the soccer player that Bridget nearly idolized. She had been the first Stanford associate to play in the 2004 Olympic Games and Bridget had watched every second of her performance. Marly, of course, was after Bridget's mother. She had thought that by naming her daughter after these greats it would somehow help to endear the child towards her. Bridget had been wrong though. Staring at the child Bridget felt nothing but contempt. She was a physical reminder of everything that Bridget had lost; soccer, her mother, and ultimately, Eric. It was no secret that they were having trouble. She barely surfaced from the bed enough to keep herself fed, much less maintain a marriage.

"Calm down," Bridget said, scooping up the baby in her arms. Julie shrieked loudly, refusing to be calmed. Bridget went through all the motions, changing her, feeding her, rocking her, and felt nothing. She thought for a fleeting second about dropping the baby off at Lena's. _That at least would make all the noise stop_. Lena would take her, that was for sure, but would she be angry? For the first time in months Bridget thought about Lena. _She never gives up_, Bridget thought with a mixture of annoyance and pride. _She'll keep harping on me until I go back to normal_. That statement alone spawned a whole new train of thought. _What is normal anymore? This is who I've been for over a year. That has to constitute as normal by now. Is this really who I am though? Who is Bridget Richman? Who am I? _The thoughts spiraled through Bridget's head as if caught on fast forward. She blinked, suddenly realizing where she was and suddenly becoming very aware of the squirming child in her arms. Slowly, Bridget lowered herself into the rocking chair by the crib, a gift from her father. Then, sighing with exhaustion, Bridget began to cry, right along with her daughter. It was the first thing that they had done together since Julie had been born.


	4. The Breakthrough

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing

Chapter 4

"What the hell is this?"

Bridget cringed as the covers were ripped away, the morning cold crashing like a wave over her frail body. Bridget barely had time to blink awake before Eric pounced at her again, shoving the bottle in her face. Bridget rubbed her eyes, trying to place the empty pill bottle.

"Bridget what the hell is this?" Eric pressed furiously.

"It's for headaches. I take it when I'm not feeling good." Bridget offered, still trying to wake herself up. Eric was obviously unsatisfied.

"If it's just for headaches why the hell did you have to hide it? Why haven't you told me about it? How come it has to be prescribed by a doctor! Do you even have a prescription for this stuff?" Bridget listened to Eric's rant, wishing that he would just be quiet. It was far too early to be having such a heavy conversation with him.

"It's not like I meant to hide it!" Bridget snapped defensively. Eric scoffed.

"Do you know where I found this Bridget? It was under the stove! Don't tell me you weren't trying to hide it!" Bridget leaned back against the pillows, trying to pull the covers back up. Eric snatched them back away. "Don't try and hide from this Bridget, deal with it!" He demanded, pulling her back up to a sitting position. Bridget sighed.

"What's the big deal? So I was taking some headache medicine! It's not like you'd care if I wasted away!" Bridget said pointedly, crossing her arms across her chest. Eric looked at Bridget as if she had shot him. In some regards, she had. She had underestimated his love for her and that hurt worse than any bullet. Still, he wasn't about to give Bridget the upper hand.

"Did you ever stop to think this isn't about you Bridget?" Eric asked loudly. "Although you try to forget it, we do have a baby in the house and she could have found this bottle before I did! I know you think you're super human or something but Julie would die if she ingested any of this stuff! Can't you think of anyone else beside yourself?" Eric demanded, sounding harsher than he had intended. Bridget seemed relatively unfazed by this though, at least to Eric.

"I do think about you and the baby!" Bridget said in her defense but she couldn't muster the energy to put any feeling into it. When she said that, something changed in Eric's face. He squinted, carefully scanning Bridget as if for the first time.

"Say her name," Eric said so quietly that Bridget thought for sure she had heard wrong.

"What?" She asked, knitting her brow in confusion. Eric remained stonily silent.

"I said, say her name. Say your daughter's name." _What is he doing?_ Bridget thought to herself. _Has he gone crazy?_ Eric stared hard at Bridget, trying to decipher her emotions. They used to be so close, now he didn't even know her. It was as if his life was running in reverse, he had gotten married and was just now meeting his wife for the first time. Eric continued to stare, obviously waiting for an answer. When Bridget just stared at him he sighed. "You can't do it, can you?" Eric asked, an edge rising to his voice. "You can't even look at that beautiful baby and now you won't even say her name? What kind of a mother are you Bridget? Is it because of the 'Marly' part of her name? I told you it might be too hard for you—," Anger coursed through Bridget's body like wildfire. She climbed out of bed, storming over to where Eric was standing.

"Don't question my mothering skills and don't you dare tell me what's too hard for me to handle! You have no clue what I've been through!" Bridget shot back at him. For some reason seeing Bridget like this filled Eric with happiness. Even though they were fighting it provided some relief. He hadn't seen her this fired up about anything since Julie had been born. _Does this mean that my Bridget's back?_ Eric asked himself. _Have I finally pulled her out of the mud?_ Eric was too afraid to let himself hope for anything. He didn't want to be disappointed again. Staring at Bridget though Eric knew things weren't fixed completely—not yet anyway. The passion that had burned behind Bridget's eyes moments earlier seemed to be quickly fading away, evaporating into a dull glow.

"Bridget you're absolutely right about me not knowing what you've been through, because you never talk to me about it. If you would just open up to me for once you would see that—," Eric began but stopped short when Bridget began to shake her head refusal.

"I don't want to talk about anything," Bridget said flatly, falling back into bed. She snuggled under the covers, willing Eric to leave her in peace. Eric stared at his wife for a minute, frustration falling over him.

"Damnit Bridget!" Eric yelled, throwing the empty pill bottle across the room. It hit an old handheld mirror, sending shards of glass flying. Bridget jumped up, startled by the sudden noise. "Why can't you just talk to me! I'm your husband Bridget, not someone you can shut out whenever you feel like! How can I help you if you won't even get your ass out of bed?" Eric's words cut through Bridget like a knife. _How could I ever tell him?_ Bridget asked herself. _He would never understand what it was like! He would never realize how much it hurt to grow up without my mom! Why doesn't he just let me be?_ Bridget wrapped herself in the covers, staying that way until she heard Eric walk out of the room, slamming the door behind him.


	5. Speculations

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing!

Chapter 5

"I miss Bee," Lena mused sadly, staring at her two other best friends. Tibby and Carmen nodded sympathetically, leaning back into Lena's large leather couch. Tibby and Carmen had just arrived that morning, Tibby from Aspen where she had been filming her latest movie and Carmen from Maine where she lived with her husband and two little boys, Aaron and Lucas. The get-together had been planned for months; a reunion of sorts for the sisters, but with Bridget still out of whack with everything the reunion was much less sweet than had been anticipated. Carmen picked idly at a spot of dried paint that had spilled onto the couch. Tibby closed her eyes, trying to relax from her plane flight. Lena however wasn't about to give up.

"You guys don't know how bad she's gotten," Lena said matter-of-factly, setting a tray of lemonade down before her friends. Carmen reached down and grabbed a glass, swigging down half of it before turning to Lena.

"She can't be any worse than the last time we saw her," Carmen said, recalling how different Bridget had been. It was right after Julie was born and Bridget and Eric had taken her home from the hospital. The girls had planned a welcome home party for Bee and the baby but Bridget hadn't even come out of the car. She refused to enter the house until Eric had cleared the girls out and torn down all the decorations. When Carmen and Tibby had gone to ask Bridget about her sudden lack of enthusiasm Bridget had locked them out of the car, closing her eyes until they were all gone. The event had taken place close to a year ago but the hurt that Carmen and Tibby had suffered still lingered like it had been the night before. Lena on the other hand refused to give up on Bridget. She was after all their sister.

"She's sunk really low you guys. She doesn't leave the house, she won't talk to me, and she hardly eats at all anymore. Eric says she won't even look at Julie. Something is seriously wrong with her!" Carmen rubbed her eyes, the full effects of the red eye flight finally taking its toll.

"What can we do for her? She's pushed away everyone!" Carmen pointed out wearily. She too was worried for her best friend but their options of "saving" her were quickly running low. Lena shrugged, flopping heavily into a chair.

"I don't know. We could stage an intervention or something. Eric said that the other day he pressed her about something he found and she got really fired up. Almost like her old self. Maybe we could do that too!" Lena suggested. Tibby looked at her friends cynically. Didn't they understand? Picking on Bridget wouldn't help any! She didn't need someone to criticize her; she needed to see what she was doing to herself! Lena stood, pacing nervously around the living room. She had so much on her mind it was driving her crazy. Between Bridget and Eric's problems, the kids, her own parents, her husband and her career she barely felt like she had time to breathe, much less fix everything! Carmen and Tibby watched Lena with concern. After nearly three decades of friendship they had become attune to each other's vibes and Lena's definitely were out of whack.

"Maybe we should just think about this in the morning," Carmen suggested, noting how exhausted she really was. Tibby and Lena nodded in agreement, glad for the distraction. Although all of them loved Bridget they were all too tired to think clearly.

"Okay, so in regards to Bridget," Lena began as soon as Carmen and Tibby had sat down to breakfast. In the interest of time and money both Tibby and Carmen had decided against heading out to a hotel and had chosen instead to crash on Lena's couch—a choice that they had come to regret. Besides fighting over covers all night, the two had been awoken at some ungodly hour by Lena's vacuuming, then the sounds of her bathing and feeding the twins and finally her getting her oldest ready for school. When it finally seemed as though they would have some free time Lena had started cooking breakfast and all the sounds had started all over again. "I think we should consider the whole intervention thing." Tibby and Carmen laughed lightly.

"And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?" Tibby asked, spreading a generous portion of jelly across her toast. Lena set down the grapefruit she had been picking at and folded her hands carefully. She looked like she was ready to give a speech and knowing Lena she probably had one written out. _Lord knows she had the time_, Tibby thought with a smirk, wondering exactly how early Lena had gotten up.

"I think we should do sort of a group attack. All head over there and just sit her down and force her to listen to us. We won't let her shrink under the covers or bury herself in a TV show." Lena said with determination. Carmen nodded, warming up to the idea.

"And we could talk to how we miss her and everything. Remind her of the fun we used to have. That will have to bring her out of her funk!" Carmen added. Lena nodded approvingly. For a minute Carmen and Lena continued their planning, until they realized one very important person was missing from their discussion. The two stared at Tibby, questioning her silence.

"What's wrong Tibbs?" Lena pressed softly, staring at her friend. Tibby sighed as if wondering whether or not to share her thoughts. Finally though, she looked up to her friends.

"Did you guys ever think that maybe Bridget has a problem? Like something medical. Maybe she just hasn't shut down for no reason. Maybe she's afraid of something, or maybe she's suffering some post-pregnancy thing." Tibby offered. The other two girls fell silent, considering over this new idea.

"It did all start to happen around the time she got pregnant with Julie." Lena said quietly. Carmen and Tibby nodded in agreement. The three of them fell silent for a while, mulling over options. Finally Carmen spoke up, breaking the silence that had fallen between the sisters.

"So what do we do?" For once in their lives, no one had anything to say.


	6. Bridget's Epiphany

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Chapter 6

Eric was taking the baby.

Eric was taking Julie to visit with his parents for the weekend, leaving Bridget all alone. She had been surprised at first, Eric had never really left her alone for an extended period of time, but then Bridget just felt silly. _I'm a big girl, why shouldn't he leave me alone? _Bridget asked herself. Still though, a lingering doubt stayed in the pit of her stomach.

"I'll be back soon Bee," Eric said softly, gently brushing his lips across Bridget's forehead. She peeked out from under the covers, surprised at Eric's sudden show of affection. He had been so distant lately. Had something changed? Bridget couldn't be sure. Ever since the "intervention" from her sisters Eric had been acted strangely towards Bridget. _Does he know something I don't?_ Bridget wondered. When the girls had come to her they had given her a card for a therapist, telling her to "just check it out". _Does Eric know why?_ Bridget didn't have time to worry; Eric was walking out of the house, Julie in tow. Bridget had to guess that this was some sort of escape for Eric. Going to his parent's house had never been his first priority. In fact, Eric usually tried to avoid his parents at all costs; he even occasionally blocked their phone calls. _Is that what I've become?_ Bridget thought to herself, horrified. _Am I the one he's avoiding now? Is he running to his parents to avoid me? _Bridget remembered when the roles had been switched; he used to run to Bridget to avoid his parents. Bridget heard the car door slam outside as the garage door creaked open. Bridget jumped out of bed like a flash, running out of the bedroom. She had a fleeting image of her rushing out and stopping the car. She could picture it perfectly; she would stop the car and convince Eric to take her. They would laugh all the way down to his parent's house, with Bridget singing out of tune to the songs on the radio. When they got to her in-laws Eric and Bridget would constantly be making goofy faces over his parent's heads, making a joke out of the entire visit. It would be fun. Bridget pressed her face against the living room window, watching Eric's car pull out of the driveway. _I can still catch him_, Bridget thought, racing towards the front door. She ran all the way out the door and to the front lawn before she realized that she wasn't that girl anymore.

Bridget woke up in a panic. Her body was drenched in sweat and her breath came in heavy, labored gasps. She bolted upright, grabbing at the spot next to her in bed. It took her a minute to realize that she was reaching for Eric and that he wasn't there. Bridget slowed her breathing as things slowly began to fall into place. _Eric and Julie are at Eric's parents. I'm home alone. I'm okay. I'm okay._ Bridget told herself. For some reason Bridget had trouble convincing herself of the last part. _Why are you fighting this?_ Bridget asked herself. _This is who you are; this is who you chose to be!_ That thought alone hurt the worst_. I chose to be like this_. Bridget repeated inwardly. _No!_ Bridget thought suddenly, surprising even herself. _This isn't who I am! This isn't who I want to be! I want to be Bee again!_ Bridget thought, adrenaline running through her body. Then, as an afterthought. _I want to be happy again._ With this thought racing through her head, Bridget leaned back against the pillows and slowly drifted off to sleep.

It was after midnight when Bridget woke up again, this time calm and tranquil. She had only one thought in her head and she was ready to pursue it at all costs. The words of her old counselor raced through her head. _Single minded to the point of recklessness._ The words that had defined Bridget so many years ago were just as truthful now. She could almost feel her old self breaking through the disguise she had put on. It scared Bridget, but in a good way. It was after midnight but Bridget was ready, she knew what she was going to do.

Throwing back the covers, Bridget slid out of bed. Her feet hit the ground with a firm, resounding _thud_ and sent shivers racing up Bridget's spine. She dropped to her knees, reaching wildly under the bed until her fingers hit something solid. She grabbed at the box, yanking it roughly towards her. She ripped at the box like a child on Christmas day, unwrapping a present from Santa. The masking tape that she had closed the box with fell in sticky clumps all around her. Bridget didn't care. She reached under the clothes, the pictures, the trophies and everything else until her fingers felt rubber. She pulled out each sneaker, her body reaching out to them like a dog reaching out to a steak. It was as if her body knew what was coming. She grabbed an old pair of socks, pulling them on quickly. The sneakers flew on after that. Bridget jumped up, introducing her feet to the feel of sneakers, the feel of socks, the feel of confinement once more. Kicking the box back under the bed, Bridget began to hop around; prepping for what she knew would be one of the best runs of her life. As she headed out the door something on her nightstand caught her eye. It was the card of the psychiatrist that her "sisters" had tried to get her to call. Without a second thought Bridget reached out for the card, sticking it to the mirror. _I'll call in the morning_, Bridget told herself, _but first I need to do my own kind of therapy_. With that Bridget stepped out of the house and let her body choose its own course.


	7. Playing the Game

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter Seven

Bridget was having a good day.

_Bridget's been having a lot of good days_, Eric thought with a feeling of warmth diffusing through his chest. It was true too. For the past few months—ever since she had been seeing the therapist—she had almost returned to her normal self. She still had days when she didn't want to get out of bed, but there had also been a lot more good times. Days when Bridget would get up out of bed, take a shower, get dressed. She didn't go out a whole lot but she would putter around the house, firing off e-mails to her friends, mowing the lawn, and, on occasion, Eric had found her playing with Julie. These were the days that Eric lived for. The light that he grasped when she was having one of her spells. These were the days when Eric just knew that everything would be okay—eventually. Eric shifted in bed, smiling to himself over his musings. He was so involved in his ruminations that he didn't even notice that Bridget wasn't lying in bed next to him. Eric paused for a minute, wondering whether this was good or bad. He would either get up to find Bridget skipping around the house or sobbing on the bathroom floor. The question Eric found himself asking was; _do I dare? Do I dare see which mood Bridget is in? Can I handle it if Bridget is in a bad mood? Do I dare—?_

"Get up, get up, get up!" Eric was yanked from his reveries by Bridget, launching herself onto the bad next to him. She laughed, crawling across the mattress until she was practically on top of him. She smiled slowly, her face pressing close to Eric's own visage. Her breath was soft and warm, seductive, against his skin. Her hair was like a giant curtain strewn haphazardly across his face but he could tell she was smiling.

"I'm up," Eric murmured, trying to catch Bridget's lips with his. She pulled back ever-so-slightly to keep him just barely out of reach.

"Not yet," Bridget said with a pause that promised there was more to come. "I have a surprise for you. Get up," Bridget commanded in a playful tone. She began to pull away, her hair trailing across Eric's body, sending shivers racing down his spine. Eric sat up quickly, reaching out for her. He caught Bridget by the shoulders, pulling her up close to him.

"What are you up to Vreeland?" Eric asked cautiously. She smiled.

"Get dressed Richman. You're in for a crazy ride." Eric was caught off guard by Bridget's response. She sounded exactly like the girl he met and fell in love with. She was Bridget. She was back.

"Should I be scared?" Eric said, only half-teasingly. He had always been wary of Bridget's capabilities and he knew that when she got that spark in her eyes she was usually up to no good. Bridget tilted her head and laughed.

"Only if you're scared of me kicking your ass," Bridget said cockily, sitting up on her knees. It was then that Eric realized what they were going to do. Bridget had on her favorite green soccer jersey—the one that Eric had given to her the night he had proposed. He had tossed it to her carelessly as if it was no big deal but inside he had wrapped the ring. On the back where her last name should have been he had had _Mrs. Richman_ stitched. She hadn't understood the ring, but when her eyes fell on the name on the back it had clicked. She had thrown it over her head and worn it until the day of their wedding. After that she had worn it on special occasions. Bridget had even worn it through her first trimester, until she had gotten too large to fit. After that it had disappeared. Eric had assumed it had wound up in the rag bag, but lo and behold, there it was.

"So," Bridget began, sitting back on her haunches. "Are you going to come voluntarily or am I going to have to drag you kicking and screaming?" Eric smiled, pulling his wife back towards him. This time when he went to kiss her, he made sure that she didn't pull away.

Bridget had everything planned. She had dropped Julie off with Lena earlier that morning, she had gone early to set up the goals and she had inflated her favorite ball—the ball that her "sisters" had given her when she graduated from Brown. It was symbolic—Bridget was positive about that, she just didn't know what it was symbolic of—yet. But, as her "sisters" frequently said, where there's a Bee there's a way.

"Okay we're here," Bridget announced, ripping the blindfold off of Eric. It had been silly, she knew, from the moment he had seen her outfit he had known exactly where she was taking him, but it was all part of the allure. Eric smiled, looking around at the soccer field stretching before him. It was perfect. The grass had been freshly mowed, the chalk lines emboldened, the goals had been set up. Bridget killed the engine staring at Eric before stepping out of the car. "Ready?" She asked. Eric knew it was a challenge.

"Ready when you are," Eric shot back, hopping out quickly. Bridget smiled, scurrying to chase after him. She had missed him, that was for sure. _Whose fault was that?_ A little voice in Bridget's head asked critically. She could almost feel herself rolling her eyes at the voice but stopped. She had spent months at a therapist, trying to prove that she wasn't crazy. This definitely wasn't the time to start going nuts.

Bridget dropped the ball in the middle of the field, preparing for the biggest game of her life. For the first time since she had started playing soccer there was no one on the sidelines, no cheering fans or relatives. There was no referee to call fouls and no scorekeeper to keep track of her goals. This time was different. Deep down Bridget knew that the stakes were much bigger. She wasn't just playing for points; she was playing for her marriage. This would be the final straw; the final show of devotion to Eric. She knew that she was ready to return to normal, but she had to show him.

Bridget scored the first goal. Then Eric scored one. Bridget scored the third and Eric just barely made the fourth. They were perfectly matched for each other. _Not just on the field either_, Bridget thought to herself, smiling over how well they fit together. Eric pushed Bridget to do things that she didn't know she was capable of; Bridget pushed Eric into thinking the impossible. They were both fiercely competitive and strove for the best at all costs.

"I'm one up Vreeland!" Eric yelled haughtily, kicking the ball back towards the center of the field. Bridget had been so caught up in her daydreams that she hadn't even noticed Eric break past her towards her goal.

"I'm not letting you win that easy Richman," Bridget stated, lunging for the ball. She maneuvered it away from Eric and took off towards his goal. She could feel him pressing on behind her, his breath loud and labored, trailing behind her. She was thirty feet from the goal—_just keep going_—Bridget commanded inside her brain. She was twenty feet—_you're almost there_! Ten feet—

"Gotcha!" Eric yelled, tackling Bridget from behind. He caught her around the waist, rolling her down to the ground until he was lying on top of her. He had his arms braced on either side of her head, staring down at her. He hovered above her so she got none of his weight and all of his heat. He knew why he loved her. _Are things really back to normal? _Eric asked inwardly, staring at Bridget in the grass below him_. Are we done with all the mood swings and emotions? Could Bridget really be better—?_

"Shhh," Bridget commanded as if reading his thoughts. She thought back to the ball, ten feet away that would never make it into the goal. Feeling Eric's weight slowly collapse into her Bridget knew that the game would never be finished. It was on a permanent time-out with the score 3-2 in Eric's favor. Bridget figured that, just this once, she'd let someone else win.


	8. The Course of a Year

A/N: This was not one of my favorite chapters but I thought it was necessary for explaining Bridget's recovery

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter Eight

"This is it!" Bridget announced walking into Dr. Land's office and sitting down heavily. She had been to the office many times but for the first time she seemed to really take everything in. The old, half-dead plant on the windowsill, the pictures of kids and adults at various stages of their lives, even the hundreds of birds and flora on the wallpaper. Bridget immediately pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them to her as if she were trying to condense herself into the tiniest box possible. At close to thirty Bridget still carried the awkwardness of a child. On her first visit Dr. Land had remarked how it could be a psychological need for affection pressing to the surface. Bridget had looked at the doctor suspiciously, trying to determine whether it would be worse to face the doctor for the entire session or face her friends the entire drive home. In the end she had chosen the latter to be worse and had forced herself to sit in the creaky leather chair and stare at the puke-green carpet. For a full hour Bridget had listened to Dr. Land talk about all sorts of things from hay rides to Tupperware. None of it was remotely interesting and Bridget had nearly been bored to tears. In retrospect Bridget was amazed that she had returned since that first session had been so disastrous. Now though, almost a full year after that fateful day, Bridget had returned with one thing in mind; saying good bye.

"Dr. Land!" Bridget yelled to the empty room. She was confused by the doctor's absence and for some reason felt a little uneasy. Dr. Alex Land had always been sitting behind her desk at the beginning of each session. Even though at one in the afternoon, Bridget's usual appointment time, Dr. Land had already had four other patients, she always looked refreshed and new, as if each person was a clean slate, a new beginning. For the first three sessions Bridget had been perfectly silent, responding with head nods and the occasional grunt. Dr. Land had been relentless though. When Bridget refused to speak, she had spoken for her. She talked about everything from her work to her schooling to her children. Finally, after the third telling of Alex's climb from public school to private school and upper class society Bridget had been moved to speak herself. At first it had only been to berate Alex and her lack of interesting conversation. Then it was other things. Bridget had begun to tell Alex everything from her mother's death to how Julie's crying tore Bridget apart. She had spilled everything, nothing was safe. Her sisters were exposed for everything they had ever done, Eric's every move was dissected; even Perry and Bridget's father had been placed under examination. In the end it had come to Marly. It had always gone back to Marly, Bridget thought to herself, recalling how she hadn't even been surprised at the things she had started to say about her mother after only a little coaxing. Bridget was terrified of Marly. Or, more specifically, she was terrified of _becoming_ Marly. But as classic twists go, her fear of becoming her mother had in fact turned her into the same person. Bridget had only been mildly surprised at Dr. Land's observation. It had been what came next that shocked Bridget.

"Bridget, I think you're suffering from postpartum depression," Dr. Land had announced one day. Bridget could remember it like it was yesterday. It had been rainy, a perfect visual of Bridget's mood. She hadn't wanted to come to therapy but Eric had pushed her so much that she had gone simply to avoid his nagging. Bridget had laughed when Alex declared her diagnosis and had stopped tracing her name in the perspiration from the window.

"That's absolutely ridiculous," Bridget had said, shrugging it off but even then she was beginning to wonder. She had heard of postpartum depression before, through Carmen who had read about it in one of Win's books. The symptoms fit. Moodiness, tiredness, exhaustion, _bad thoughts_. Bridget felt like a little kid, running through the symptoms and applying them all to herself. I couldn't be suffering from postpartum depression, Bridget assured herself but even then she could see Carmen's mouth forming the word, _denial_. The symptoms did sound an awful lot like her. Tibby's sarcastic voice rang in her head, _hey, if the shoe fits_….It had taken a few more sessions before Bridget agreed with the diagnosis and even more before she had agreed to take medicine to treat it. Marly had taken medicine too, Bridget remembered and all of a sudden she had spiraled back down to obsessing over turning into her mother.

All of that had been dealt with—_and cured_, Bridget reminded herself, helping herself to some of the jolly ranchers on Dr. Land's desk. A year after she had met Dr. Land she was ending it. Alex had told her that she was ready, although she assured her that she was only a phone call away. Bridget had taken the number but knew that she would never use it. She had her sisters, she had Eric, even her father and brother would be there. _I'm a big girl_, Bridget had told Alex, _I should start acting like one, right?_ Alex had, of course, agreed.

"Dr. Land! I have a surprise for you!" Bridget yelled out to the empty office once more, trying to lure the psychologist out of her hiding spot. As if on cue a door to the left opened—a door that until now Bridget had never realized existed. Alex stepped out, her dark hair pinned back in its regulatory bun on top of her head.

"Bridget!" The tiny woman said brightly. "I thought I heard you screaming out here!" Bridget laughed and moved to hug the woman who had become her lifeline, her confidant—her friend.

"Alex, I am proud to say that this is the last time that I have to write an absurdly large check addressed to you," Bridget laughed, holding the paper out to her. Alex accepted it with a smile, discreetly slipping the paper into her desk.

"And I am proud to say that I am sending a perfectly normal young woman back into the world." She laughed, reaching out to hug Bridget warmly. Despite their rocky beginning Alex had grown rather fond of the spunky blond. Bridget laughed along with her.

"As opposed to—the mess I was when I came in?" Bridget asked, daring Alex to challenge her. Alex shrugged, mutely accepting Bridget's own classification of herself.

"I have something for you," Alex admitted, reaching back and pulling a cupcake from out of the mini-fridge she kept under her desk. The frosting was green and had a little plastic soccer ball on it. "It was from my son's birthday party. When he found out that his old camp coach was one of my patients he insisted I bring you one," Alex explained as Bridget graciously accepted the treat. Alex had mentioned her son's name once or twice in the past year and apparently Bridget had been his coach the year after she had graduated college. Bridget didn't remember him but she had apparently left a lasting impression on him. Bridget ate the treat slowly, laughing with Alex over a few of their best moments. When she was done Bridget stood to leave, quite possibly for the last time. It was only then that she remembered one of the main reasons she had come to Alex's office. A secretive smile slipped over Bridget's face as she turned to face her friend. Her hand instinctively graced her stomach as the slightest crimson coloring rose to her cheeks.

"Before I go, I have one last surprise for you…"


	9. The Park

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Chapter Nine

"Well?" Eric asked as Bridget hopped back into the car. She smiled at him, quickly buckling her seatbelt and leaning back in her seat.

"Well, she was surprised," Bridget admitted as Eric fired up the engine. He nodded knowingly, slowly pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main street. After a moment or two had elapsed, Bridget turned back to Eric. "She was really happy for me—for us. She wished us the best."

"Park mommy!" Julie screamed from the backseat, tossing a teddy bear towards the front. Bridget turned back, lunging towards her daughter with a playful expression on her face.

"That's right Jules; we're all going to go to the park!" Bridget assured the child, gently tickling Julie's sides. Julie squirmed in her carseat, laughter overtaking her tiny body. _Thank god she can't remember_, Bridget thought with a pang of distress shooting through her chest. _Thank god she doesn't know how much I resented her_. It just about broke Bridget's heart to remember what Julie used to be to her. She had been a pain, a bother, an annoyance. Bridget had seen her as a restraint, not something to be loved. All through her recovery Bridget had asked the same question, over and over again; _will Julie remember how I've treated her? Will my daughter remember how awful I've been?_ Time and time again Dr. Land had tried to convince Bridget that Julie was too young to retain any lasting impressions. Bridget had found it hard to believe. _I've lived with the kid for over a year and she doesn't have any impression of me?_ Bridget had remained unconvinced.

"Bus!" Julie yelled suddenly, pointing excitedly out the window at the large yellow school bus that had pulled up alongside the car. Bridget nodded at Julie with excitement. She's so smart! Bridget thought to herself in wonderment. _When did she change from that squirming bundle to a real human being?_ Bridget sighed as another pang of sadness washed through her.

"I missed it," Bridget mumbled sadly, turning to face forward. Eric looked at her curiously, trying to keep up.

"Missed what?" Eric asked, glancing distractedly from Bridget to the road. She dropped her head to her lap.

"I missed Julie; I missed her changing and everything. I missed her first word, her first steps, her first solid food. I missed everything!" Bridget whined. Eric looked at Bridget sympathetically, reaching out to put a comforting hand on her knee.

"Oh Bee, you can't blame yourself for that. You were sick; you didn't know what you were missing out on!" Eric assured her, squeezing her knee. She nodded sadly. _I guess_, she thought pitifully but it didn't make the feeling go away.

"I just—I feel so horrible about it. She's my _daughter_, how could I have missed out on everything?" Bridget asked, reaching back to stroke Julie's leg. Julie laughed, grabbing at her mother's hand. Eric nodded.

"I understand how you feel Bee, but Julie will understand. Plus," Eric continued, moving his hand from Bridget's knee to her slightly-burgeoning stomach, "You're going to be right there for everything that this one does." Bridget smiled, her hand fluttering instinctively to her abdomen.

"I guess, I just wish that I had felt the same way with Jules," Bridget admitted.

When Bridget had first learned of her second pregnancy she had been terrified. _What if this is just like with Julie?_ Bridget had wondered. The thought had kept her awake for days on end. Bridget had been an emotional wreck. She had literally been inconsolable until one night a few weeks into her pregnancy. She had woken up in a fervor and had gotten up and stormed into the nursery. Julie was sleeping snugly in her crib and in Bridget's eyes she had never looked so beautiful. Bridget had just leaned down to caress Julie's back when she felt it. It was the softest flutter, like guppies swimming around in her stomach. It was so small but Bridget had been ecstatic. It had filled her with instant warmth, like a physical assurance that everything would be all right. When Eric had woken up he had told her that it was impossible to feel the movement at such an early stage in the pregnancy but Bridget was adamant. She knew that she had felt something and nothing could change her mind.

"Bee, are you there? We're here." Bridget was yanked from her reverie by Eric's hand softly shaking her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm awake," Bridget said, hastening to undo her seatbelt. She climbed from the car and walked over to where Eric and Julie were standing. She reached down, catching Julie's tiny hand in her own. _It's sticky_, Bridget thought, suddenly remembering the jelly doughnut that Eric had given her before Bridget's appointment. Bridget knew that before she would have pulled away in disgust but now she found herself actually—enjoying it. She had to admit that she loved the feeling of her daughter's hand in hers, sticking to it like it was supposed to. _It feels…safe_, Bridget thought to herself with a smile, _like I'm actually a mother to her_.

"Come on you two, there's a swing open over here!" Eric called, jogging over to the old swing set across the park. Bridget smiled and swung Julie into her arms.

"We're coming!" Bridget called, laughing as Julie clung onto her hair. Julie squealed excitedly as Bridget lowered her into the swing seat.

"Go! Go!" Julie yelled, her face contorted with laughter. Eric and Bridget smiled in unison at her enthusiasm, each taking a side of the swing. Eric stood behind, gently pushing and Bridget stood in the front with open arms; ready to catch her daughter. _This is it_, Bridget thought to herself, _this is what being a mother is all about_.


	10. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing

Epilogue

"Bee!" The three girls cried in unison, rushing towards their sister. Bridget smiled, walking over to her best friends, a playful smile dancing across her face. Julie pulled away from Bridget's loose grasp and headed towards the backyard where the other kids were playing together. Eric followed Bridget closely, the twins sleeping heavily on his shoulders. He did the mandatory greetings with the girls but wasted no time heading back to the barbeque where he could talk with the other husbands.

"Bridget, we missed you!" Carmen cried, practically tackling her friend. Bridget laughed, returning the hug. She held Carmen at arm's length, inspecting her friend.

"You look fabulous! And Tibby, look at you, you're glowing!" Bridget crowed. Tibby blushed, putting a hand on her round stomach.

"Just a few more months," Tibby said with a smile, resting her lemonade on her stomach.

"She's just got one in there though," Lena said, patting her friend's large belly and turning towards Bridget with a raised eyebrow. "We can't all be overachievers like you, Bee!" The girls laughed heartily, basking in each other's company. They had been apart for so long—too long—that any and all conversation was treasured. They hadn't meant for the separation. _What happened?_ Bridget wondered to herself, _what happened to keep us all apart?_ _Life, that's what happened_, Bridget thought, answering her own question. _What with Tibby's filming, Lena's art, Carmen's medical work, not to mention all of us have families now_. Between kids and husbands and work it was nearly impossible for the girls to get together anymore. When they did manage to find a moment to get together though it was as if they had never been separated. They would pick up the conversation where it had left off the last time and head off running. Despite everything that life had handed them they knew they would always have eachother, they would always have the memories, they would always be sisters.

"Look at her go!" Tibby exclaimed later that night as the girls sat on the patio, watching the kids play in the backyard. Of the several girls out on the field Bridget knew immediately who they were talking about. Julie. Julie stood out like a shining star on the field, her speed and athleticism apparent even in her five year old body. She could easily maneuver the ball any way she wanted and it was clear that all the other kids on the field were aware of this. They seemed to have given up and were just standing around, kicking at the grass and dispersing into other games.

"God Bee, she's like a rocket," Lena commented softly, amazed at the child. Bridget beamed excitedly. _That's my girl!_ Bridget cheered inwardly watching as Julie flew up and down the field. She didn't even seem to notice that the other kids had wandered off in search of different activities.

"Well you know what they say," Carmen began as the others turned her way.

"Like mother, like daughter!" The three others crowed in unison. Bridget smiled at her friends, slowly sipping her lemonade. Suddenly, Bridget realized, the phrase wasn't so scary.


End file.
